Page 220 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

Stone nods, his jaw tight. “I’ll go later. After I do another check of the perimeter.”

“Your arm?—”

“Is fine,” he cuts me off, but there’s no heat in it. Just exhaustion. “It’s fine, Jax.”

I don’t push it. Instead, I move to the refrigerator, which hums quietly in the corner. Opening it reveals another surprise—it’s fully stocked. Fresh vegetables, eggs, milk, packages of meat wrapped in butcher paper. In the freezer, meals in containers labeled with Ren’s handwriting: beef stew, chicken soup, lasagna.

“Ren’s been busy,” I murmur, taking in the carefully organized shelves.

Stone peers over my shoulder, his breath warm against my neck. “You think he cooked those?”

I grunt. “Probably not.”

Stone hums a laugh in his throat. “He’s always been a planner. Always thinking ten steps ahead.”

“And apparently never sharing those steps with the rest of us,” I add lightly, but familiar frustration colors my tone.

Stone just grunts in agreement as he reaches past me to pull out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon. “Might as well make use of it. Finn hasn’t eaten since yesterday. Hailey either.”

The normalcy of the gesture eases something tight in my chest. This is what we do. We take care of each other. We survive. We keep going.

I step back to give him space, watching as he moves around the unfamiliar kitchen with the same efficient grace he displays in our own. He finds a cast-iron skillet in a cabinet below the stove, a mixing bowl in another, moving quiet and sure even as he favors his injured side.

“How bad is it, really?” I ask as he cracks eggs into the bowl.

His hands pause for just a moment before continuing their work. “I’m alive.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Stone glances at me, his golden eyes unreadable. “It hurts like a son of a bitch, but I’ll heal. We’ve got bigger problems.”

The bacon sizzles as it hits the hot pan, filling the kitchen with its savory aroma. My stomach growls in response, reminding me that it’s been hours since I’ve eaten anything, too. The mundane sound startles a laugh from Stone, the first real one since the attack.

“Sit,” he orders, nodding toward the chairs at the farmhouse table. “You’re no good to anyone if you collapse from hunger.”

I obey, settling onto a chair that creaks beneath my weight. From here, I look up at the small window at the back of the cabin. The forest stretches endlessly out there, a sea of evergreens climbing up the mountainside. It’s beautiful in a wild, untamed way—and utterly isolated. Perfect for a safe house. Perfect for hiding.

“Do you think they’ll find us here?” It’s a question that’s been gnawing at me since we fled our home.

Stone doesn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Not immediately,” he says, flipping the bacon with practiced ease. “This place is off-grid. No paper trail leading here. Ren seems to have made sure of that.” He pauses, considering. “But eventually? If they want her badly enough? Yeah, they might.”

The thought sends ice down my spine. “They were prepared, Stone. Combat gear and everything.”

“I know.” His voice is grim as he cracks more eggs directly into the pan, where they bubble and hiss in the bacon fat. “These weren’t street thugs. They were professionals.”

The implications hang heavy between us. What we witnessed last night goes far beyond what we’d imagined the Academy to be.

“We’ve been thinking too small,” I say, the realization hitting me with full force. “This isn’t just some underground omega trafficking ring. The resources needed to train and equip a team like that…”

“Means the Academy has serious backing,” Stone finishes, his scent souring with displeasure. “Government connections maybe. Or corporate. Deep pockets, at the very least.”

I think about how efficiently they breached our home, how coordinated their movements were. “We’re up against something much bigger than we thought.”

Stone nods grimly, sliding eggs onto a plate. “Which means getting Hailey out of their radar and keeping her safe just got a lot more complicated.”

Before I can respond, a floorboard creaks overhead. Both of us freeze, instinctively tilting our heads to track the sound. Soft footsteps cross the bedroom floor, followed by the gentle opening and closing of a door. The bathroom, most likely. After a moment, water begins to run through the pipes.

“Finn,” Stone says softly.

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